The Color of the Vale
by TomFoolery
Summary: In the Vale, Eo welcomes the victims of the Society's war and awaits a brighter future.


Eo stared up at the stars in wonder. They had been one of the last things she had seen in life, and they were a constant nightly presence now in the Vale. The dew-kissed grass, the sounds of dozens of birds and insects, and the trickle of water in a nearby stream filled her new existence. The reaper's song had delivered her here, and its woeful melodies had eventually called more.

Darrow carried her dream forward, but it was coming at such great cost. She looked around the campfire at her companions, and felt glad for their company by anguish by their presence. Darrow had set Mars afire with war, and as with all wars, and it would only be extinguished by blood and tears.

She had been alone for a time in the Vale with the spirit of their baby. She often heard the passage of others in the distance through the forest and mountains, but no one ever came, until the day she was joined by the Gold man, Julian au Bellona. _More of a boy, really._ Aside from the man who ordered her execution, she had never met a Gold. Julian was kind, warmer than his color demanded he should be.

When she learned Darrow had killed him, she cried. She had been killed, and Darrow had become a killer to avenge her. She did not know there could be tears in the Vale, but she also did not know that Golds came to the Vale either. Strangely, he had comforted her, and they lived peacefully together, until the morning she found Lea huddled and crying in the stream.

She was the most beautiful woman Eo had ever seen, a Gold, forged into the epitome of splendor. Darrow had allowed her to be murdered, and again she cried over the loss of Darrow's innocence, and again she was again surprised when Lea consoled her. There was not supposed to be pain in the Vale, and after some weeks her grief healed and Lea molded herself into their lives.

Then one evening as the three of them lie beneath the expanse of the universe, Pax emerged from the forest, shining and golden like the others. He was a giant of a man, even for a Gold, and she wept again when she learned he had died trying to save Darrow. The tears were of a different flavor, tasting more of true mourning than devastation. This man had been her husband's friend, and he had loved him as she loved him. _He had loved him enough to die for him._

Pax's raucous laughter quickly converted her sorrow to joy, and they became four, the Red and the three Golds. One morning many months later, she awoke and found Quinn among their number, soft and quiet as though she had always belonged. Quinn was cerebral and just as lovely as Lea, and when Eo learned she had been murdered first by another Gold in the service of the Sovereign and then second by another Gold out of casual cruelty, she found it hard to contain her anger. Bitterness did not belong in the Vale, but it flowed just the same.

Quinn was not bitter, but Quinn grieved for a man named Roque. He had not died, but both Quinn and Lea said he would be lost all the same.

Like the others before him, Tactus was a brilliantly beautiful Gold. He arrived on a bright afternoon, sat down next to Pax, and asked for a stiff drink and an explanation. Eo told him of the Vale, and he began to weep silent tears. He insisted he didn't belong in so lovely a place, and didn't deserve the love of people like Darrow. They kept him all the same.

Things changed on the day that Fitchner arrived, because she learned that swearing was also very much alive in the Vale. He was far from handsome, but he seemed to draw his energy from some deep, personal undercurrent. He was Ares, and for all his faults and gruff demeanor, he had been the first to have a dream for a better world. He too had been murdered, and now joined their ranks and rested his hopes in both Darrow and his son, whom he said was called Sevro.

Nearly a year later, as a smoky dusk set over the horizon, a Gray named Trigg emerged from the forest as Pax had done. Like Pax, he had died to save Darrow, and like all of them, he would now call the Vale home.

It was an exceptionally rainy night when Ragnar came down from the mountains. She learned that fear also existed in the Vale on that stormy night, but the Obsidian soon assuaged her terror with a solemn hug. Like Quinn, he had met his ultimate fate at the hands of the woman Aja, and Quinn smiled subtly when Ragnar told of the battle. Still, Ragnar grieved that he should have done more for Darrow, but Fitchner punched him in the shoulder, delivered a string of obscenities, and the enormous, dark Obsidian man joined their fold seamlessly.

The sounds of the others began to grow louder in the surrounding woods, and the group knew the war must be raging. The Red, the Gray, the Obsidian, and the six Golds existed in a strange equilibrium between anticipation and anxiety, eager to encounter more loved ones but reluctant to cheat them out of life.

Soon they suspected there was a person living in the forest, and though they searched, they never found anyone. The sounds of lost souls in the distance reached an even more tragic pitch, and Eo shuddered at the growing cost of her dream as they waited together for more friends and loved ones to emerge.

Then one night, when Trigg had lit a fire and Pax and Tactus were trying to show Lea and Julian how to dance to one of Fitchner's bawdy tunes, two figures emerged from the woods.

Lea and Quinn stood expectantly, as did Eo. Another sinewy Red, Darrow's father, led a cautious Gold from the forest. The pair approached their campfire, and with many tears but no words, the group accepted Dale and Roque among their number.

That night, Eo watched them all, illuminated by the light of the fire and the pale moons and the brilliant galaxy overhead. They cried, they smiled, and they _lived_.

As a child she learned the Vale was where the souls of the Reds dwelled for eternity, completely at peace and free of pain. They had been so wrong.

The Vale was full of life, and life demanded pain, and pain was woven by grief, regret, anger, jealousy, shame, and cruelty. Each and every one of them had been guilty of these things, some more than others, but guilty all the same.

It would be easy to be overwhelmed by such awful sentiments, were it not for things like joy, kindness, loyalty, patience, and love. In the dark, by the light of nature and friendship, she could see no color in the Vale, and she knew no matter what, her dream was very much alive.


End file.
